


Right Here In My Arms

by TheRubyStorm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, Gen, Mpreg, Sequel, Surrogacy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and it's so sweet, graphic birth, home birth, labor, seriously, sherlock has his own child, there's so much fluff, very nearly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRubyStorm/pseuds/TheRubyStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The requested sequel to 'Born on Baker Street.'  </p><p>When John and Mary find out that Mary can no longer have children, the offer to carry a child for them comes from an unexpected place.  After all, he's given birth before.  Surely he could do it again.  Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Here In My Arms

It was a familiar pain that Sherlock awoke to on a chilly January morning; a feeling of muscles cramping tightly before relaxing once again. Nonetheless, that morning he lay in bed, not willing yet to get up. After all, this wasn't the first time he had gone through this. There was still time. He's nearly asleep when it happens again, this one strong enough to force him to take slow, deep breaths to control the pain.

“Hey now,” he said as he rubbed the large bulge of his stomach. “I hope you're not going to give John and Mary this much trouble...”

He let out a long breath as the contraction came to an end. “At least they'll be happy to know you're coming.”

The birth of their first child, Fiona, had been very traumatic for all involved and had nearly resulted in the death of mother and daughter. Thankfully, they both survived, however, Mary was no longer able to carry children. After nearly four years though, John and Mary had hoped to give their daughter a sibling by means of adoption. That is until Sherlock made an unbelievable offer; to carry the Watson's child for them.

“So today's going to be the day isn't it?” he smirked, smiling wider at a kick to his hand in response. A small knock on his bedroom door disrupted the moment.

“Papa?” a little voice yawned as she stood in the doorway.

“It's alright Abby. You can come in.”

Not wasting any time, the little girl made her away towards her goal of his pillow. “Good morning daddy...” she mumbled as she sleepily climbed into the bed and snuggled next to him.

“Morning.” he smiled; running his fingers through her ebony curls. Now 8 years old (going on 30) she was every bit his daughter; sporting his curls, his porcelain skin, not to mention his intellect. If she was going to be anything like him, she'd be sure to give him hell in a few years. But for now, he was content to have her just like this.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mmmhmm. You?”

“As best as I could with this one kicking on my ribs. You know, mmm....” he stopped as another contraction started.

“What's wrong?” she asked, now fully awake and her face etched with concern.

'Leave it to her to catch on...' he thought as he let out a long breath. “Here, give me your hand.”

Abby perked up at the offer; feeling the child growing inside of him had been a thrill for her through his entire pregnancy. But as she placed her palm against his skin, her brow furrowed in confusion. “It's hard...”

“And what does that mean? Figure it out sweetheart.” he prompted, his eyes trying to help her find the answer. Thinking a little bit longer, her eyes widened in realization as she looked up at him.

“The baby's coming?!”

He smiled and nodded his confirmation. “I'm going to call uncle John and aunt Mary in a few minutes for them to come over and get things ready. But I'm fairly sure things are going to happen some time today.”

“So...does that mean...?” she hesitantly starts to ask and he already knows what's coming. Ever since he had told her that he'd be carrying a baby for John and Mary, she had begged that he let her be there for the birth, even more so when Sherlock decided that this child would be born in the same place his daughter had. Since then, she had asked constantly to please let her stay; even going so far as to use her eighth birthday wish on it. But while John and Mary didn't mind the thought, the decision ultimately came to Sherlock who had never given her a direct answer, only a “We'll have to see...” to hold her until the next time she asked. But there wasn't going to be another next time. It was time for an answer.

“Do I need to get ready too?” she asks quietly and Sherlock smiles when he realizes she's holding her breath, praying for yes but bracing for no.

“Not just yet. But you will need to change out of your night clothes at some point.”

“Really?! I can stay?” she squeaks and he can't help but chuckle at her reaction as he nodded.

“Well someone needs to help get things together right?  Besides, I'm going to need my best assistant to help me out.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!” The words came out in a rush as she hurried to wrap her arms about his neck and just as quickly, she's hurrying towards her bedroom to change. If only getting her moving in the morning was always that easy...

* * *

 

“Sherlock?” John called before coming back into the living room where Sherlock sat in his chair, having what appeared to be a staring contest with the wall.

“You alright?”

No answer, but looking down, he could see that his grip on the armchair was getting tighter.

“Contraction?” he asked next and smirked as Sherlock gave him a look of annoyance at him stating the obvious before grabbing hold of his hand and turning his attention back to breathing. Sherlock was never one for someone telling him to breathe, preferring instead the comfort of touch as he squeezed John's hand tighter, bringing his other hand to his face as the pain reaches its peak. After a few tense moments, he relaxed and looked at John with a sigh.

“Now remind me why I agreed to do this again...” he asked as he slowly got to his feet, rubbing the sore muscles in his back.

“Because you wanted to give us something that we've always wanted that we couldn't do again without you.”

“Oh there's got to be more to it then that...”

“And because I promised you could keep the placenta.” Mary added as she came into the room with a cup of tea for herself and John.

“That's it.”

“You what?!” John exclaimed. “You know what, I don't want to know what you have planned for that...”

Sherlock bit back a laugh as he started heading towards his bedroom. “Don't worry. I won't do anything crazy with it. And on that note, I'm going to go shower for a bit.”

“Of all the things...” John sighed to himself before Mary wrapped him in an embrace. “Can you believe it? It's really happening. We're about to be parents again.”

Seeing the excitement in her face, he softly smiled. Thinking back a few years ago, to believe that they'd be having another child after everything they had been through...it just didn't seem possible.

“You know, he's not going to be satisfied with just us letting him keep the placenta. He'll never let us hear the end of this.” he quipped.

“Yea.” she smirked as she rolled her eyes. “But I'm sure we'll find some way to thank him for this... I love you.”

“Love you too.” he said before giving her a tender kiss. But before they could get any further, a knock echoed from the front door, regretfully interrupting the moment.

"That'll be Mrs. Hudson." he said, making his way towards the door as Mary went to get Fiona.  Bless her heart, he knew she only wanted the best for them.  But ever since finding out that Sherlock was planning to deliver yet again at Baker Street, the past few months had been filled with her well-meaning but annoying questions and comments of “Are you sure's”, “I wish you would's”, and “But what if's” despite Sherlock's insistence of handling this on our own, until she finally seemed to come to respect his wishes.

 _'Let's see if she still does when she finds out about Abby...'_ he thought to himself, putting a smile on before opening the door.

“Hi Mrs. Hudson. Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“No problem at all dear.” she smiled as she gave John a hug. “How's Sherlock?”

“Pretty good. He's in the shower right now. Contraction's are about 8 minutes apart so he's making good progress. I'm thinking we should have a baby by tonight.”

“And you're sure you're all going to be fine here by yourselves?”

“Of course. And I promise, if there's the slightest possibility that something's going wrong, we'll get him to the hospital in no time.”

“But John....”

“Mrs. Hudson!” Fiona said excitedly as she hurried towards the door with Mary close behind, which stopped her next question in its tracks. Mouthing a silent thank you to Mary, he was grateful for the distraction as Mrs. Hudson took the girl in her arms, smoothing out her blond hair.

“Hello sweetheart! We're going to have so much fun today! And where's Abigail?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“Abby's coming.”

“Actually, about that...” John started. He didn't have a chance to get any further as Abigail came into the room, rolling a large ball from her playroom towards Sherlock's bedroom and his heart sank. Judging by Mrs. Hudson's reaction, she had already figured out what's going on (she was more than aware of Abby's request over the past months) and her lips formed a tight smile. So much for breaking it to her gently...

“Where are you going with that sweetie?”

And before John or Mary could stop her, she said, beaming with pride, “Papa said I could stay and help with the baby.”

“Well...  That's...that's wonderful dear.”

Great...

She didn't let it show, but they could already see the restraint she was using to not show how mortified she was. Time to get her out.

“Abby, go ahead and bring that into the bedroom. We'll be along in a minute, okay?”

As she smiled and left the room, John casts a look at Mrs. Hudson and he has a pretty good idea of what's coming. She had already given her thoughts of the situation when Sherlock decided to deliver again at Baker Street. But this... John knew this wasn't going to sit well with her and she was say something in...

3...2...1...

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“And there it is... Thank you Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said as entered the room, wrapped in his robe and curls still dripping from the shower.

“Sherlock, what are you doing on your feet?” Mrs. Hudson asked, concerned. “You should be resting dear.”

“There's plenty of time for that.” he said as he leaned over the back of his chair with a grunt. “Besides, I'd like to be finished with this before the end of the day if you don't mind.”

“I'm just not sure it's good for your little girl to see this kind of thing at such a young age...”

“She's seen more postmortems than most of Lestrade's team. I don't think it would harm her to witness a little labor and childbirth.”

“What?!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, her expression absolutely mortified.

“What he means is...” John spoke up, casting a glare at Sherlock who was now heading back towards his bedroom. “We actually tried to dissuade her; we told her that it could take a long time, that he'll be in some pain, that there's probably going to be some blood...and she wasn't fazed by the idea in the slightest. She's torn through every medical textbook she could get her hands on about the subject. Taught me a couple of things too actually...”

“Oh for goodness sake...” Mrs. Hudson shook her head as the color continually drained from her face.

“My point is...we wouldn't let her stay if it was something we thought she couldn't handle. And she already knows that if it does get to be too much, she can go downstairs with the two of you if she wants. She'll do just fine.”

She let out a little sigh before looking up with a nod. She's finally relented. “All right. Well the little one and I will go on downstairs then and do our own thing. And I'm a phone call away whenever Sherlock...”

“Thanks Mrs Hudson. We'll let you know.” Mary said before giving their firstborn one last hug goodbye. “We'll call you as soon as we have a baby.”

“You better.” And with a smile and a wave, then there were four.

* * *

As John and Mary headed into the bedroom, the sight that awaited them wasn't quite what they had expected, yet shouldn't have surprised them all that much. In the middle of the room was Sherlock draped over the over-sized ball, letting out a low moan as the contraction hit its peak while Abigail sat cross-legged on the floor next to him, his phone in her hand as she watched intently. It took a moment before he realized what she was doing and he smiled. She was timing contractions; eight years old and already knew the routine.

God, she's another Sherlock...

Waiting until the current pain had ended, John stepped into the room and took a seat on the floor next to them.

“How're you holding up Sherlock?”

Giving a tired smile, he nodded to Abigail. “Well as you can see I'm in good hands.” he said to which she beamed with pride.

“You watch John, she's going to give you a run for your money in the medical field someday.”

“Can I really?”

“You're making a great start.” John smiled. “So Doctor Abigail, how close are his contractions?”

“Six minutes apart.”

“Six already? Seems like someone's impatient to get here.”

“Good.” he sighed as he brought his head back down to rest on his arms and began to rock back and forth. “Really don't want to be doing this late into the night...”

“Don't worry. At the rate you're going, you won't be. Besides, second babies typically come quicker than the first.” Mary said as she gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. No sooner had the words come out of her mouth that the next pain rolled through, causing him to tighten his grip on Mary's hand and let out another low moan.

Catching sight of the look she was giving him, John spoke up.“Abby, why don't you go get your dad some crushed ice from the freezer?”

“Okay.” she said before handing him Sherlock's phone. “Don't forget to keep timing the contractions.”

“Yes Doctor Abigail. I won't forget.”

Once she was out of the room, John's attention turned to Sherlock. “Sherlock, your contractions are actually more about five minutes apart. Do you want me to break your water while Abby's out of the room?” to which he quickly shook his head.

“Not time yet... Let it happen on its own... Oh god my back...” he panted.

“Pain in your back?”

He nodded again. “Hurts...”

Taking his cue, Mary shifted to the other side of him and taking her hands, pressed down hard on the small of his back. After a few moments, there's a noise of relief from him as the worst of the pain finally releases itself. A few more moments, the contraction ends and Sherlock straightened up to look at her with a smirk.

“Where were you when I did this the first time?”

She grinned. “Just glad I could help.”

“That one was really bad. I don't remember having back labor like this with Abby.”

“Probably just its positioning right now.” John said. “You might want to try a few standing up. Might get it facing in the right direction.”

“Yeah. I think you're right. Help me up.” It takes a few tries, but soon he's on his feet and walking around; John and Mary on either side for him to lean on during contractions. A few minutes later, Abby returns with the ice and resumes her job of timing each contraction when she's told. In between, they try to keep the atmosphere light and soon, conversation quickly shifts to baby names.

“We really do need to have a few names in mind Mary.” John said after a moment. “We're running out of time.”

“I told you, once we see the baby, we'll know. But what did you have in mind?”

“I didn't.”

She smirked. “You wouldn't be asking if you didn't.”

“Fair enough... Well, I was thinking maybe Clara if it's a girl and Nathaniel for a boy?”

Sherlock let out a scoff; clearly not impressed with John's suggestions.

“Problem?” he asked.

“Clara's not unbearable. But Nathaniel... Well, the choice leaves much to be desired.”

“So says the man with a brother named Mycroft...” Mary replied with a laugh before turning to Abby. “Alright then, what do you think about Nathaniel for a boy?”

She thought for a moment. “I like it. But it's going to be a girl.”

“Well that settles it then.” Sherlock smirked.

“Wait a minute. Hold on.” John said as he stopped walking along with Sherlock. “How can you possibly be so sure she's right? We never even had a scan to find out.”

“Well she is my daughter after all.”

"You've forgotten the names of planets Sherlock.  Somehow that doesn't bide well for your track record."

"Not forgotten.  Deleted.  There's a difference."

"Sure there is..." John said with a roll of his eyes before turning to Abigail.  "So really, how are you so sure?"

“You're going to think it's crazy.” she replied.

“After all these years I've spent with your father, I don't find anything crazy anymore.” John chuckled. “So come on, how do you know?”

“Alright... Papa had a great deal of morning sickness for the first two months of his pregnancy, just like when he was pregnant with me, his biggest craving has been cookies and cream ice cream and up until a week ago, his stomach was much higher up than it is now and most who carry high have girls.”

“But those are all old wives' tales... Sherlock, you can't possibly think...”

"I'm absolutely serious. She...oh god...J-John...”

Turning to face him, John let his best friend wrap his arms about his shoulders, pressing his forehead to John's as they sway back and forth.  Stealing a glance over at Abigail, she silently holds up three fingers; three minutes apart. He's taken to vocalizing now with contractions and with each breath he takes in, lets out a low 'Oooooh...' and 'Doooown...' as he tries to keep muscles relaxed.  After a moment, he opens his eyes and smiles. Another one down.

“So you're quite sure she's right?” John asked as he straightened back up after a moment.

“Ask her.”

Moving to where Sherlock's grinning daughter sat, John eyed her up and down as she stifled a giggle.

“Alright.” he said after a moment,  “I'll make you a deal.  You think it's a girl; I think it's a boy.  If you're right, I...I'll let you cut the cord once the baby's born.”

At the sound of that possibility, her eyes widened in excitement.

“But if I'm right...we get to name him 'Nathaniel.” John smirked as he glanced at Sherlock who made a groan of annoyance.

She thought for a moment at the tempting offer before grinning and extending her hand for a shake.

“Deal.”

“Making bets on your your child before it's even born... And you want to talk about me...” Sherlock smirked as he shook his head in mock disgust.

* * *

By late afternoon, Sherlock had shifted back into the bathroom, opting instead for soaking in the large tub in hopes of the warm water soothing some of the pain.

 _'Why I didn't think of doing this with Abby, I'll never know...'_ he thought as he gave his bump another rub after his latest contraction. Sensing he was being watched, he looked up to see Abigail in the doorway, quietly watching as she waited for permission to enter. Permission came in the form of an outstretched arm, to which she happily complied as she wrapped her small arms about his neck in an embrace. Despite it all, he still managed a smile for the young girl.

“Hey sweetheart...”

“Hello papa.”

“M'so tired...” he mumbled as he put his head back on his arms.

“Do you want me to get uncle John?”

“I'm alright.” he lied as he felt another pang start, trying to keep his body relaxed as he rested his head on his arms. “Just stay here with me for a bit.”

“Ok.” she said as she knelt next to the tub, gently running her fingers through his curls as he moaned through another contraction. Yet, having his daughter here, helping him in the best way she knew how, seemed to help ease some of the pain. As the contraction ended, he looked up at her with a grateful smile.

“I'm so glad you're here with me...”

“Me too papa.” she smiled. “Did I give you this much trouble when I was born?”

“Only just.” he said as he brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. Gazing at his daughter, he thought back to that night she was born in the same apartment, the fear he felt when came into the world, if she'd remind him of Moriarty and the fear of if he'd be able to raise her on his own. But despite it all, she had thrived; growing in leaps and bounds and surprising him every time he turned around. Still, he couldn't help but felt that things were missing in her life due to the choices he had made and the doubts were rising again.

“We-we're okay, aren't we? Just the two of us?” he asked quietly. “You don't regret that I never settled down, got married, gave you a little brother or sister? You know, have a typical family?”

With very little thought, she shook her head. “I have you and uncle John and aunt Mary, and Fiona's like my little sister. It's not a typical family, but I've got the best one ever.”

Touched by her frankness, he wiped away the moisture growing in his eyes.

“Since when did you get so smart?”

“Everyone says I get it from you.”

“They're very smart.” he smirked before his expression suddenly changed.

“What's wrong?”

“My water... I think it just broke...” His suspicion was confirmed only a few moments later as another contraction rolled through. Only now, without the cushion around, the pain was the sharpest he had felt so far, causing him to let out a gasp of pain as he suddenly felt a great amount of pressure followed by a familiar urge to push.

“John... Go get John... It's coming...”

As Abby left the room, Sherlock shifted to lean against the edge of the tub, trying his best not to push until they were here. Panic was starting to set in as he felt his heart rate climbing. _'I-I can't do this... I don't want to do this anymore... I...no.'_ he kept thinking to himself. He let his hand rest on the low bulge of his stomach, feeling the child lower than it had ever been so far, so close to being born.

“I can do this. I can do this...” he breathed.

_**For her...** _

Bringing himself to sitting on his heels in the tub, he tried to relax before the next surge. It didn't take long however, and with a deep breath, bore down as hard as he could. Despite the pain, it felt good to finally be able to do something now and despite having been several years since last doing this, the memories of Abby's birth came rushing back.

“Like riding a bike...” he panted before giving in to another push. Somewhere, he could hear the sound of footsteps came closer and felt a hand grab hold of his. Looking up, he saw a set of smiling eyes, Mary.

“That's it Sherlock. A little longer.” she encouraged as he squeezed her hand tighter; John and Abigail following close behind as he chased the contraction with another push. After a few moments, the urge ebbed away and he let out the spent breath with a moan.

“I'm getting too old for this...” he mumbled.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're doing amazingly.” John grinned. “Do you want me to take a look?” he asked to which Sherlock slowly shook his head no.

“Not necessary...” he breathed. “Head's right there...” The words were hardly out of his mouth as he tensed with another contraction and shifted his legs further apart as he bore down again, deep in concentration as he worked to see it through to the end. It isn't long before an excited sound from Abigail made John look down in time to see the top of the baby's head make an appearance before sliding back in.

“It's coming Sherlock.” he smiled as Sherlock stopped for a breath, prompting an affectionate squeeze from Mary. “You keep going like that and we'll have a baby before too long.”

“Definitely not taking it time.” he breathed. “Must take that from your side.”

“Speak for yourself.” Mary quipped with a roll of her eyes, remembering how long she had been in labor with Fiona.

* * *

 

Despite the general buzz of excitement in wait for the Watson's second child to make its appearance, the atmosphere in the room was actually rather calm; Abby's presence actually being a great comfort to Sherlock as she would bring cold cloths for her father's face and keep him updated on his progress. Despite John's earlier hesitation, she was proving to be a good help; her favorite thing being to hold her father's hand between pushes while watching and waiting for something to happen until finally...

“John!” he nearly screamed as he felt like his lower extermities had been lit on fire. “It's ripping me apart!"

“Ease up on the pushing Sherlock.” John said, the emotion starting to choke his voice. “Baby's head is about to crown.”

“Really?!” he heard Abby nearly squeal as she hurried from her father's side to look over John's shoulder.

“Daddy, I can see hair!”

But Sherlock was hardly listening now, his hands working with John's to help muscles to stretch as they tried to accommodate the baby's head. His breathing quickened as the head reached its widest point until finally with a shout, the baby's head slid free into his hands.

“God that was rough...” he panted with a smirk as he tried to catch his breath while waiting for it to turn.

“I know Sherlock.” Mary smiled as she leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You're doing amazingly. I'm so proud of you.”

"No cord around the neck so you're good for the next contraction.”

“Can't wait..” he mumbled as his hand came to rest on the baby's head, letting his fingers explore the tiny features on its face. 

“Whatever it is...” he smiled, “It sure does have a full head of hair.”

“'She' dad.” Abigail piped up. “I'm telling you, it'll be a girl.”

“Alright 'she'.” he smirked before he started to tense with another contraction.  “Here come shoulders...”

Before anyone could reply, Sherlock's gone again; his teeth grit as it slowly inches out more with each push.

“Come on baby...” he growled as he gave a harder shove; the traces of a smile showing on his face as one shoulder comes free followed by the other as he supports the tiny form in his hands.

“That's it Sherlock. You're so close.” John chokes out, tears starting in his eyes as his hands join Sherlock's around the soon to be born child and with one more push, the rest of the newborn slid free and is pulled out of the water and onto Sherlock's chest where it quickly let out a wail of protest as it took its first breath.

Through misty eyes, he could already see how much their second child had taken after Fiona, sporting the same button nose, plump cheeks and shock of blond hair that she'd had as a baby. Looking at Sherlock, his face showed it all:exhaustion, relief, joy... There was a fatherly softness in his face now, something he hadn't seen since Abigail was born.

“What is it? What is it?!”  Abigail's excited voice suddenly broke through the noise.

“Oh my god, we didn't even check.” Sherlock chuckled as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.  Quickly he checked to see what it was before smiling at Mary. “I told you she was right. Say hello to your daughter. ”

“It's a girl?” she asked, the tears starting again as he nodded before giving their new little girl a kiss atop her head.

“Oh John, she's perfect. Absolutely perfect...”

“Well of course she would. She looks just like her mum.” John chuckled as he blinked away tears.

“Hi baby Clara!” Abigail excitedly whispered as she leaned in closer for a better look. “Daddy, she's looking right at me!”

“She probably already knows your voice from all those months that you've been talking to her.”  he grinned before giving his daughter a kiss as well.  “Should we go ahead and call Mrs Hudson?”

“No, not yet. There'll be plenty of time for that later.” Mary replied. “For now, let's just worry about getting the two of you cleaned up and settled.”

After letting Abby cut the cord as promised, John stayed behind to help Sherlock while Abigail and Mary took the newborn into the bedroom. They quickly busied themselves in cleaning up the newest addition, counting ten fingers and toes and swaddling her in a soft blanket before preparing a bottle for her first meal. She was happily suckling away when Sherlock finally made his way toward his bed, dressed in clean night clothes and more than ready for some rest.

“Voracious little eater isn't she?” Sherlock said as he settled against the pillows, watching as Mary fed her little daughter.

“She definitely does have quite an appetite. But then again, being born is hard work. Look, she's already finished it.” she said softly as she set the empty bottle to the side, easily slipping back into the routine as she gave the newborn's back a few small pats.

“Do you want to hold her for a bit Sherlock?” she asked before gingerly placing the newborn in Sherlock's waiting arms.

“Hello Clara.” he smiled as he smoothed her wisps of blond hair. “You put me through a lot of trouble you know that? You know John, you might think she looks like Mary, but I think she takes a lot after you.”

“The poor thing...” he laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous.” Sherlock scoffed. “She's perfect.”

Feeling his own daughter climb into bed beside him, he wrapped his arm around her to let her get a closer look.

“She's so cute.” she breathed as she looked at the sleeping newborn. “Was I that little when I was born?”

“Just about.” he smiled as he gave her a squeeze. “Thank you for staying with me sweetheart. I couldn't have done it without you. Love you...”

"I love you too daddy..."

Watching the scene tender scene with Mary in his arms, John smiled to himself. “Well? What do you think?” he asked her.

“As if you had to ask twice...” she smirked.

“Ask what?”

“Sherlock... Mary and I, that is, we've been talking and well... Clara... Without you, she wouldn't be here. That's why, if you'll willing, we'd like you and Abby to be her god-family.”

“You-you're serious?”

“You entrusted me with your daughter all those years ago.” John replied, his voice choking up. “I couldn't think of anything better then to let my best friend do the same with ours.”

“I-I don't know what to say...” Sherlock said quietly, completely floored by the request. Several years ago, something like that would have been unheard for him; to have a child entrusted to his care. Yet, staring down at the tiny infant in one arm and his own daughter in the other, to see how much the love of a child had changed his life for the better, the answer was obvious. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he smiled.

“I-It would be my honor.”


End file.
